The unfurling, unwinding, unwrapping of self. The removal of mummified remains. The moment when you close your eyes and another world emerges behind your lids, softer, easier to navigate. Right before you open your eyes. That moment, frozen, where light filters through your skin, your body still. I want a brilliant opening like a bud held tight bursting in color, from fiddlehead to fern. Like the open arms and heart of my child, the ripping of paper. Tear me apart and fold me in new angles, new geometry of the soul. Origami eyes, quietly shutting, yet I am never truly closed.